just before five…the thicket darkened, or maybe my vision did, and I thought I saw something move. in between seasons, with no one hunting- it could not, should not, likely was not- a hunter. too big anyway. maybe. possibility.

could it be a yeti?

have I been watching too much television? is it a flashback from the Monster of Clay County? or, staring at too many road signs for three hours?

or, could it be a yeti?

time to tie my shoes. time to tuck my pant legs into those beat-up boots. time to focus on the trail…before-

peppering pellets of snow?

and crunchy leaves like corn flakes beneath your boots.

and how fast can you walk without slipping and stumbling over a patch of briers, tearing holes in your britches?

and should I slip into something less comfortable from the bowels of my backpack?

time..

the pellets turned to flakes, the flakes to clumps, the clumps to whiteout. and as I rounded the hill, I saw her- standing softly in the spitting snow, she raised her head to glance my direction….

was it first love? was it those big brown eyes?

she wouldn’t let go of her stare. I found the thicket less embarrassing. was it because I was wearing brown?

she followed me up the path.

inside, I flipped the switch- warmth flooding my chest, forehead, and parts unknown. she stood at the edge, or the side, a bit dumbfounded. her shoes covered in white. the picture of beauty.

but beauty belonged there, deep in a land where men and women only visit…and i belong here, snuggling up to a cup of warm tea…on the other side of the window.

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About thelostkerryman

Thelostkerryman is an author, entrepreneur, and disciple- this side of Tir Na N'Og- living in the forests of a consistently confused country.
Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley, store-made soda bread resembles an inedible Irish megalith, and Kerrygold is only found hidden like a luck penny in the belly of Kroger.
This blog is an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above.
All of my posts, thelostkerryman.wordpress.com, everydayasadisciple.wordpress.com, and mrandmrsboring.wordpress.com are copywrited according to international copywrite law.

9 Responses to through the thicket

Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
You know–according to on-air discussions in GROUND ZERO, with Clyde Lewis and COAST-TO-COAST-AM, with George Noory–such opportunity for hybridization is very real. Butt does one want to describe a love scene between aa man and a willing yeti? 🙂 Excellent work–had me spellbound!

the references to a yeti and the Clay County Monster are poking fun at that genre of TV shows. if you want to know who the female is, pay attention to the words and phrases used in the description- like hunters, brown eyes, etc. The reference to “wearing brown” was an inside rural joke as deer are colorblind and every deer hunter would know that. the female is a deer, a rather curious one, as some young ones are. her “shoes” are covered in white is a reference to the snow. PS I often write with poetic license.

Not in the poem. The one wearing the shoes was a real live deer, not a real live dear. Do I like women with muddy shoes? Such a difficult question! It is not the shoes, nor if they are muddy that would interest me. But…I prefer women without their shoes.

lately….I have had this longing to…walk barefoot through the sand on a beach. I miss the ocean, the water, the wind blowing in off the ocean, the sounds of waves licking the beach…but about the time real spring comes, my workload increases and I am gardening, so…some fine day…

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